


A Hundred Of Air

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-24
Updated: 1999-04-24
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: During his poker game with Ray, Fraser discovers a better way to collect what he is owed.





	A Hundred Of Air

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

A Hundred Of Air

 

It took me about three separate viewings of "Odds"  
to realize just why I like it so much. Then after the third time, inspiration  
struck- like a brick, or a big tree (apologies to Snapdragon)- and I  
immediately ran upstairs, dashed off this fluffy bit of randomness and  
sent it off to the Serge list. And was subsequently amazed when some  
people actually liked it, being that it's only my second slash piece...  
ever. (Hey, where're you guys going?! Come back!)

So anyway. There is just something so slashy, to me, about that episode, and the tag in particular. The thought that inspired this little bit of lunacy on my part was, "Gee, I can think of a more interesting way for Fraser to get his air...." 

So I present to you: a realtime-continuation alternate ending for "Odds". And if you haven't seen the episode already, you probably won't follow, at least at first... sorry 'bout that. (Although, there definitely is not much of a plot, so it shouldn't be _too_ difficult.) One thing to remember is that the janitor man (who may, or may not be, a spy for the Mob... ooh, spooky music!) isn't here. Because he has no place in this story and I didn't want to deal with making him go away. So he just isn't here. I can be more creative than that, usually... in the words of Ray, "I could do that. I choose not to." 

Enough ramblings. On to the story. Quick disclaimer- characters aren't mine and I put 'em back where I found 'em, like Mom always said I should.

  
"A Hundred Of Air"  
by Maya  


"I'm all tapped out." 

Benton Fraser- Mountie, all-around nice guy and, as Ray Kowalski thought of him on frequent occasion, part-time lunatic- frowned down at the cards on the table. "Well, now, that just won't do at all." 

And this was one of those occasions. Ray looked at his partner, down at the table and back up again, and blinked twice; then he shook his head quickly, snapping out of his Fraser-induced stupor, and shrugged, playing along. "Yeah, well, you know how these, uh, these things are. Come by tomorrow and I'll see what I can do about your, ah...." He paused. "Air." 

The Mountie looked honestly perturbed. "I'm afraid that's no good, Ray. You see, I really need that air." 

His partner drummed his fingers lightly on the tabletop, watching him from under half-closed eyelids. Ray wondered briefly if Fraser had really, truly gone off the deep end this time. It was bound to happen eventually. 

"I'll write an IOU," he offered, wondering how one was supposed to talk to the insane. You were supposed to humor them, right? "I'll, uh, I'll even write it on air." 

Fraser shook his head, leaning forward ever-so-slightly. "No, no, you don't understand. I need that air _now_." 

Ray's hand suddenly hit the table loudly, jarring the quiet atmosphere of the deserted squadroom. "Dammit, Fraser, are you more mentally imbalanced than usual today? I mean, you're raggin' me about _air_ , you know that? You sure you only fell on your back, there, and not your- mmph!" 

The detective nearly fell out of his chair as the uptight, straight-laced Mountie leaned forward, gently cradled his head in both hands and pressed his own lips to Ray's. Fraser's lips parted; after a stunned moment, the other man followed suit. 

Seconds passed, then a minute; they were working on two when Fraser finally broke away, his breathing slightly irregular. Ray was dazed and audibly panting. 

"Head," Ray finished automatically. "Oh. Okay. That was- that was nice. That was good." 

"Am I paid in full, then?" Fraser asked, with what would probably be a smirk on anybody else. On him, it was just the smile of a man extremely pleased with himself and his partner. Or so Ray preferred to think. 

A slow grin spread across said partner's face. "No- no, I think that if you were to... conduct a- oop- a more... ah, more extensive... search...." Sharp gasps as eagerly cooperative hands drifted lower. "You'll find I'm... uh... I'm, uh... help me out here, Frase...." 

"Holding out on me?" the Mountie suggested. 

"Yeah- yeah, that's it- ooh yeah, that is _it_...." 

"Well, then, I should collect my due, shouldn't I?" 

"Should- Fraser, I will kick you if you don't. Now." 

"Well, we can't have that...." 

Some time later, the two men were curled up in the rigid desk chair, contentedly tangled together. Fraser's legs were sprawled in a decidedly undignified position, his body pressed- not unpleasantly- into the hard cushions by the weight of one half-asleep blond Chicago detective. 

"Ray?" Fraser said softly. 

"Mmf." 

"She really did kiss me, not the other way around. And I had to do it, to let her think she was getting to me." 

"I-" Ray yawned and cracked one pale blue eye open, staring up at his lover. He smiled sleepily. "I know." 

"You do?" Fraser shifted slightly in his seat, squinting at the other man. Ray was heavier than he looked. 

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're the Mountie." Said so matter-of-fact, as though it explained everything. The arm of the chair was digging into the small of his back; Ray shifted sideways and snuggled fully into Fraser's lap. Much better. 

"That I am," his partner agreed, finding himself now with a lapful of Ray, and not altogether displeased with the effect. 

"One thing though." 

"Yes, Ray?" 

Ray leaned up and lightly nipped Fraser's ear. "Do it again and I _will_ sock you." 

"In the head, Ray?" The other man sounded amused. 

"Yeah, that's about... something like that." Another yawn. 

"Understood," he said softly. 

"That's... good...." 

As Ray drifted off to sleep, Fraser just stared thoughtfully at the darkened room. Behind them, Dief and Ante lay burrowed in each other's fur. He was fairly sure his leg was falling asleep, but resolved to ignore the small discomfort. Instead, his eyes landed on the playing cards on Ray's desk, the flag of Canada proudly emblazoned across the back of each one. His crowded- no, not crowded, _full_ \- his full house was still spread out in front of the other, now empty chair. 

And beside the cards, a hundred of air. 

Fraser smiled. 

-end- 

  
Comments go to.  
Pretty please? I love feedback, I really do.... Flames will be either  
deleted, responded to in kind, passed around for ridicule, or any combination  
of the three. So bring it on, kiddies. If you (gasp!) like the story,  
I have some other stuff- mostly gen- up at http://internettrash.com/users/maya.  
And... go and enjoy your life... or something like that.


End file.
